


Not always right

by Cammiel



Category: Glee
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-11-16
Updated: 2013-11-16
Packaged: 2018-01-01 18:41:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 933
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1047283
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cammiel/pseuds/Cammiel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After six years working at a retail store, Santana López knows that the customer is never right. The existence of Rachel Berry proves that. M for later chapters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Not always right

**Author's Note:**

> I know, I know. I have unfinished fanfic to work on, other storylines planned, but this idea was just too nice to let it pass and I'm certain it won't be over five or six chapters. So I hope you like it and let me know what you think!

_The customer is always right,_ Santana repeats for the fifth time since her shift started two hours ago, faking a smile and giving the bag to the lady that insisted that her music player was defective, when it was clear that she didn't even read the fucking instructions. Also, who would want a music player full of Duran Duran, Nickelback and Kevin Federline? She had to contain the gag after seeing that playlist.

So after she's done with that woman, she just goes back to organize the freaking boxes. Because it's her turn after a rock-paper-scissors game. It's well known that when people see you arranging merchandise the probability of them bothering you is 99%, because they wouldn't like to wait until the seller - or better said the Customer Service Sales representative, which is basically the pompous as fuck way to say you are a seller - can help them. So she just damns Puck, her co-worker, for the third time in 5 minutes and damns herself for being so predictable and choosing rock. Fuck you, rock!

So she just starts to separate the boxes, because Puck is a pig and didn't even organize them for department, while she tries to ignore her phone vibrating in her pocket. Because "It is absolutely prohibited to answer the phone or use any electrical device during working hours," she hates retail store policies.

"Blonde alert at six, López," Mike muttered while giving her a stock of papers, a wink and starting to organize the boxes. Santana knew exactly what it meant, so she started to walk as fast as she could, taking advantage of the exit Mike, the biggest seller of the electronics department, had granted her; until Sue's voice made her stop in her tracks.

"López! Come here!". Santana turned around to see Sue standing in front of her, with her hands in her hips and tapping her right shoe on the floor. The always dreaded Sue fucking Sylvester. Two times winner of the title of best store manager nationwide, which was not enough to beat W. Schuester to the regional manager position. Which was the main reason why Schuester never went to their store and why Sue would practically have seizures whenever his name was mentioned.

"Yes, miss Sylvester." Santana answered looking over her boss' shoulder seeing  _her_.

Sylvester looked vicious "Personal business is not admitted on my store. So go tell your girlfriend to leave, or I'll make  _you_ leave," before Santana could correct her and inform her she doesn't have a girlfriend, not anymore at least, they heard a voice.

"I'm not looking for Santana, miss Sylvester. I'm looking for Arthur," Brittany said, after Sue turned around and looked at her, she added, "He sold me an antivirus and I don't know how to install it." She added.

_Probably you also want him to install his fucking software in you again._ Santana thought trying to forget the image of  _her_  fucking ex girlfriend with  _her_ fucking ex coworker in  _her_ fucking bed, going at it like bunnies.

"López, your turn." Sylvester looked suspiciously at both of them and pointed at her eyes with two of her fingers, warning Santana she'll be watching and then she left. Probably to her fucking office to talk to Becky, who was her right hand.

"What the fuck do you want?" Santana asked feigning disinterest, although it still hurt. It wasn't like she loved her anymore. It had been a long time since then. But it was still awful for her pride, afterall they were high school sweethearts that decided to take New York by storm. Brittany had gotten a scholarship to Juilliard because she was a terrific dancer, and Santana had left her shot at University of Louisville to follow who she thought was the love of her life, and following her dream of becoming a writer. It turned out she ended up with a dead end job at fucking retail and a relationship she didn't want to be in anymore.

It all went to hell two years ago, when Brittany cheated on her with one of her fucking professors - _not even an attractive one_ , Santana remembered bitterly - so she pretended to forgive and forget while cheating back on her. It was unhealthy as fuck, and their relationship deteriorated fast. So now here she was, having to deal with this woman she didn't recognize anymore. On Brittany's defense, Santana had to admit she didn't recognize herself either.

Still, fucking her stupid coworker was a new low, and she could accept a lot of crap, but that was the last straw. She had to salvage whatever pride she had left.

"I just wanted…" Brittany looked at her and hesitated for a second, "I want to see Artie." She finished and Santana just lost her temper.

"Go fuck yourself, and ask him to install your fucking antivirus if you didn't give him a fucking STD first." She knew it was vicious, but she didn't care and started to walk away, but then she turned around and added, "he quit after I beat him up so hard, that not even his mother could recognize him."

She could hear Puck whispering  _damn_ as she walked past him towards the break room. She was mad, angry, she needed a cigarette and she still was sexually frustrated because the girl she wanted to have a one night stand last night was already having wedding plans and imagine their children, and Santana ran as fast as she could.

Everything sucked and her shift would end in five hours, forty minutes.

She couldn't fucking wait.            

**Author's Note:**

> That's all for the first chapter! I'll try to update during the week. Let me know what you think.


End file.
